


feel the spine

by Lamachine



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Light Angst, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 14:19:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4104001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lamachine/pseuds/Lamachine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One summer to fix a house leaves plenty of time to fall in love. </p>
<p>[Set after the first movie; isn't canon-compliant for the second one]</p>
            </blockquote>





	feel the spine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinggg](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinggg/gifts).



> This story is a birthday gift for my amazing twin. I love you tons, for about as many reasons as there are stars in the night sky (this is both cheap poetry and a reference to the-story-that-shall-not-be-named so you can have extra feels on this lovely day). Happy birthday!

_i like my body when it is with your  
__body. It is so quite new a thing.  
__Muscles better and nerves more.  
__i like your body. i like what it does,  
__i like its hows. i like to feel the spine  
__of your body and its bones, and the trembling  
__-firm-smooth ness and which i will  
__again and again and again  
__kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,  
__i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz  
__of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes  
__over parting flesh… And eyes big love-crumbs,_  

_and possibly i like the thrill_  

_of under me you so quite new_

 

e.e. cummings

 

* * *

 

_It's the shuffling of clothes, the quick but quiet footsteps, the murmured apologies. The smell of make-up - a blend of lipstick, foundation and nail polish - that dries up throats. It's the uncomfortable warmth that comes with so many bodies stacked in such a small place with the heat of all those bulb lights around the mirrors. The continuous movements around her, tensed muscles and hurried gestures. It's exhilarating, the whole of it._

_The dressing room has its own poetry and Chloe thrives on it before every performance. It soothes, it buzzes, it fires up all at once._

_It reveals._

_That night she ties a small yellow scarf to one of her belt loops and tries to forget how her heart is crawling up. She wants to believe in many things - in their future victory, in her fellow Bellas' strengths, in their new cohesion as a group. As a chosen family, maybe. Chloe breathes in and out and again and again, and promises herself not to be disappointed at the end of the night. No matter what._

_All of that pent-up energy vanishes when a grumpy brunette tugs on Chloe's scarf, her waist pulled forward and soon crashing into a body that used to tense up whenever it was touched. Now Beca just stands there, one wrist held up, another hand on Chloe's hip._

_"Some help please?" she mutters._

_It takes a second or two before the confusion dissipates. "Of course," Chloe smiles as she quickly ties a band of yellow fabric around Beca's wrist._

_There are a few signs. Every time Beca enters the room, Chloe's heart bumps into place, and then her pulse picks up speed, runs wild. Whenever she's sharing a moment with Beca Chloe's breath rushes out of her, and yet her brain fires up like she's had too much oxygen. Chloe's eyes continuously fall on Beca's lips like magnets; her chest seemingly expands; her skin tingles and warms up at every one of Beca's very few touches. The signs have always been there; Chloe just chose to ignore them before now._

_But with the lack of personal space, the roaring anticipation that rumbles inside Chloe leaves her no place for denial._

_She has feelings for Beca._

_It stays with her, that truth, that realisation, during the whole set._ _The crowd claps and screams and cheers in a way they never did before and her eyes water._

_They're kind of unbearable now, they want to explode out of her, those feelings. To burst like Chloe breaks into song when she hears something she loves playing on the radio on a good day and she just_ has _to, because it's so beautiful, and perfect, and_ hers _-_

_And when Beca kisses Jesse, that night after the performance, Chloe tries not to break her promise._

_Tries not to be disappointed._

 

_Like her heart, she breaks it anyway._

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The morning sky competed with the bright blue of Chloe’s eyes and the flashes of sunlight on her car's hood, all of it causing Beca to wince behind her sunglasses. Elbow resting against the half-opened window, Beca’s fingers toyed with her curls absently. Chloe’s car smelled like cinnamon, the radio played T. Swift’s _We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together_ and Beca’s head throbbed painfully. Hangover style.

 

“You promised coffee,” the words scratched against her throat, tongue still swollen with slumber.

 

As usual, Chloe’s smile did not falter. Eyes on the rear-view mirror, she carefully parked her car as she promised; “after.”

 

Beca groaned, hiding her face in the crook of her arm. It only prompted the sunglasses to dig into the bridge of her nose, and when Beca whined again, Chloe laughed gently.

 

“Aren’t you excited?” she asked as if she had forgotten who she was speaking with.

 

Of course Beca wasn’t _excited_. Getting dragged out of her bed and forced out of her pajamas rarely got her enthusiastic about anything. “I’m curious at best,” Beca frowned as she noticed their surroundings. The green BU logo confirmed they were still within the confines of the campus – only she wasn’t familiar with this part. “It’s too early for anything else,” she continued to complain as she unfastened her seat belt.

 

“It’s ten,” Chloe noted with a perky grin. “Come on.”

 

The opening of the driver’s door sent an uncomfortable wave of heat into the car, as if forcing Beca out. Humid summer days hadn’t really started yet, but she could feel it in the air – the itching of future sunburns, the peculiar smell of cheap sunscreen, the stickiness of melted ice cream on lazy fingers. But if she was lucky enough, Beca would avoid most of it; using her internship at the radio as an excuse, she had already settled on not flying home this summer.

 

There were stepmonsters all around, now; at least Barden had none of those. Besides, her room had an A/C and wifi access; that was all Beca needed.

 

A hand grabbed hers, tugging her forward, and Beca’s breath caught in her throat.

 

“Do you trust me?”

 

Beca’s heart missed a beat, and she wondered how many parts of her would malfunction before the day would finally end. Judging by the sparks in Chloe’s eyes, Beca guessed she could already say goodbye to the quiet, lazy Saturday she had hoped for.

 

“Yeah, I guess,” she shrugged.

 

Her nonchalance had no effect on Chloe – it rarely did, anyway.

 

Swiftly moving around Beca, Chloe pressed herself behind her, her warm voice tickling that little hair down her neck. “Close your eyes,” she ordered.

 

As Beca complied, her sunglasses disappeared, quickly replaced by Chloe’s warm hands. “Walk straight ahead,” she instructed, and Beca bit her lower lip as she executed herself.

 

It was a childish game she hadn’t played since the third grade with her cousin Kyle, and that usually ended up with bruises and cuts on her knees and forearms. No matter how she searched her memories though, she could not remember Kyle ever pressing himself against her so much.

 

Plus it never gave her that weird rush that tingled under her skin now that Chloe's perfume mixed with the smell of freshly-cut grass.

 

“Now, head to the right,” Chloe guided her, not mocking Beca’s hesitant footsteps like Kyle would have.

 

“Dude this is taking for-” the words caught in her throat, left foot bumping against something.

 

Her eyelashes brushed against Chloe’s palms as she stumbled forward. “Sorry Bec,” an apologetic voice murmured, “we’re almost there.”

 

_There_ , as it turned out, was a large two-story white house with a dark blue door.

 

“Ta-dam,” Chloe sang, eyes sparkling, as her hand captured Beca’s. Tugging gently on Beca’s little finger, her smile wavered in hesitation. “Do you like it?”

 

Beca frowned, pupils still pained by the sudden rush of sunlight. “Umm...” she glanced at Chloe, confused. “What am I looking at?”

 

“A house,” Chloe answered so earnestly, Beca repressed a groan of annoyance. “ _Our_ house,” she specified.

 

Beca’s guts turned into lava at the choice of pronoun. “Oh,” she breathed out.

 

Chloe sobered up. “You don’t like it,” she noted, her thumb massaging the back of Beca's hand, as if nervous. “Look, I know winning the ICCA doesn’t mean we’re like, a _family_ or whatever but it’s kind of how I’ve always seen the Bellas and we’ve dreamt for _years_ that we’d get to have a home on campus, Aubrey and I. So when the dean called me to offer we take the Zetas’ house I thought I’d go for it you know? Because-”

 

“Wait,” Beca interrupted, “you mean this is the Bellas’?”

 

A few nods and a slowly widening smile answered.

 

“We’re gonna live here,” Beca continued, her stomach rumbling like it did that time she gave a mixtape to her crush in fifth grade or when she stepped out of that taxi on her first day at Barden, “rent-free?”

 

Chloe beamed once more; “do you like it?”

 

“If I like it?” Beca could feel the warmth spreading around her sternum as Chloe’s eyes burned holes in her cheek, “Chlo, this is _aca-awesome_.”

 

At the choice of words, Chloe scrunched up her nose. “You’re making fun of me," she pouted. "You never say 'aca-awesome'.”

 

"Nuh-uh, I can say aca-things,” Beca tugged on Chloe’s arm playfully, a smile hovering on her lips, “when the occasion aca-deserves it.”

 

“You’re doing it wrong,” Chloe protested, although her wide grin didn't drive the point home. Instead of insisting, she unhooked her fingers from Beca's and searched her purse. “Wanna see inside?” she dangled a new set of keys in the empty air between them.

 

Somehow the movement only sent Beca’s eyes towards her sunglasses, hanging on Chloe's collar. Hooked behind the first button of her blouse, they almost seemed as if they were hers. The thought made Beca's heart skip a beat, and something might have crossed her face because Chloe shivered lightly. "Oh," Chloe realized,  "here."

 

She opened the sunglasses and carefully placed them over Beca's face, her index pushing them into place before it absently ran through Beca's hair. Beca swallowed hard, her pulse racing. No doubt a consequence of her hangover, Beca decided.

 

As Chloe reached for the door, Beca followed without a word. One key refused to turn into the lock; Chloe tried another. And another, and another.

 

"Maybe they gave me the wrong set," Chloe wondered aloud. Her face turned into a cute pout of disappointment - not that Beca found it attractive, of course not, that was still the exhaustion speaking. "But I wanted to show you around."

 

It wasn't sadness exactly, but _something_ weighted down Chloe's smile lately and Beca hated it. She fought it anytime she had the chance. "Do you want me to break a window?” she offered, more to make Chloe laugh than anything else. When Chloe seemed to consider it though, Beca raised her hands in defeat; “hey I was kidding.”

 

“I know,” Chloe said with hesitation. She looked at the keys and the door, as if something didn’t add up.

 

“I guess it wouldn't be breaking and entering if it's our place," Beca mused aloud.

 

Without a word, Chloe walked to the closest window and tried to lift it open, but it wouldn't budge. "Stay here," she told Beca with a wink before she disappeared at the corner of the house.

 

"I was joking!" Beca yelled after her. "You're a crazy person," she continued when Chloe didn't reappear.

 

The wait made her strangely giddy; enough to forget her hangover and her need for caffeine, and everything that had happened the previous night with Jesse. But that was what spending time with Chloe did, strangely. It recharged her batteries.

 

After a few minutes the door finally opened, a beaming Chloe grinning at her.

 

"Tell me you didn't break a window," Beca asked right away, glaring.

 

Chloe laughed. "Thought you'd like to see my rebellious side?" she joked before admitting that she had found the back door unlocked.

 

"Well that's good, because I'd rather not get arrested again," Beca teased, although her exhaustion made it sound more like a confession.

 

Frowning, Chloe stepped forward, one hand landing on Beca's crossed arms and squeezing lightly. “I’m still sorry about that."

 

Beca shrugged, embarrassed; “come on Chlo, I was joking.” She looked at her feet for a moment, her cheeks oddly turning red; “you gonna invite me in?”

 

“Oh,” Chloe blinked, “yeah of course.”

 

Beca followed her in, curious. Once her eyes adjusted to the lack of light in the hall, she opened her mouth, and closed it. Besides her, Chloe kept nodding, as if agreeing to an unspoken question.

 

“I get why the dean kicked the Zetas out,” Beca stated.

 

The whole place was trashed; red, yellow and blue beer cups coloured the floor all over, with all kinds of garbage, ranging from confetti to empty alcohol bottles. It reeked of booze and cigarette, all of which did not help with Beca's hangover one bit.

 

As if she had noticed the nausea creeping up Beca's throat, Chloe suggested opening a few windows to let some fresh air in.

 

“Or we could burn the whole place down,” Beca offered instead.

 

Chloe flinched before she managed to crack open a window. “It needs a little work,” she agreed, her gaze running over the garbage dump that was meant to be a living room, judging by the old couch pushed in a corner.

 

Beca sighed. “A little?” she looked around, not daring to think about the state of the second floor. There was a broken pinata at her feet, and a smashed acoustic guitar in the corner. “Chloe it looks like Woodstock happened here.”

 

“It’s not that bad,” she crossed her arms with a resolute expression. Beca knew that look; it was the one Chloe had when the Bellas had first tried to learn the choreography for that cheesy  _Ace of Base_ song. “Besides, we have all summer.”

 

Beca’s eyes widened as she realized. “We?” she cleared her throat. The rest of the Bellas had already left for home; the past week had been a long series of goodbye parties. Only Beca and Chloe had decided to stay in Atlanta. “As in, you and I?”

 

Chloe smirked, her hands falling into the pockets of Beca's hoodie and pulling her close. “The two of us, yes,” her minty breath brushed against Beca's skin, tickling ever so lightly. “Come on, Bec’,” she insisted, gently nudging Beca's stomach with her fingertips. “Say yes.”

 

Beca sighed. “Chloe,” she stretched the last vowel into a whine, “I don’t wanna spend my summer vacation fixing a house.”

 

Chloe pouted. “It's not like you've got _plans_ ," she argued, "outside of work," she specified when Beca opened her mouth to disagree.

 

She wasn’t wrong. Beca had four shifts a week at the radio station, and nothing else to do but toy around on her laptop. She tried not to wince at the remembrance that she had secretly planned on visiting Jesse - but that was before.

 

“I’ll buy you coffee,” Chloe promised.

 

Beca squinted her eyes - there was something dangerously close to guilt in Chloe's eyes. “Does that mean it’s a morning thing?”

 

Chloe averted her eyes. “I, um... I got something on weekdays, so it would have to be a weekend thing.”

 

“Chloeee,” Beca whined again. 

 

“Bec’, you're a Bella now,” Chloe's voice turned serious, almost grave. “You have to start taking your responsibilities towards your aca-sisterhood.”

 

“That’s not a thing,” Beca shook her head and crossed her arms. In the back of her mind she knew all too well that she would agree to help; it's not like she could say no to Chloe. But watching her squirm was oddly amusing, and maybe there was something after all in the whole pulling of pretty girls' pigtails. 

 

Chloe sighed. “Please don’t let me do this on my own,” she asked again. There was something strangely fragile in her eyes now and Beca rolled her eyes before she raised her hands.

 

"Fine," she surrendered. "But there better be caffeine next time."

 

“Let's get you some now,” Chloe sounded relieved as she pulled Beca towards the exit, “I promise you won’t regret it.”

 

Just before she passed the threshold, Beca's left shoe stepped onto something weirdly sticky. “Ew," she complained loudly, wondering if she should stop to look at it, or live in blissful denial. "I regret it already."

 

"I'll make it all better," Chloe grinned.

 

And if Beca felt sickly warm the whole drive to the nearest coffee shop, it had everything to do with the promise of sweet caffeine, and nothing to do with having caused  _that_ smile on Chloe's lips.

 


End file.
